In Her Claws
by Paradoxalpoised
Summary: Chapter 5: Some things never change, yet the ones you love often do unexpected things. Rosalie is at a crossroad. This is the now complete prequel to "Je te rends ton Amour" directly related to what is introduced in its Chapter 10.
1. Chapter 1: Killing Something

**Synopsis: **"Yes, because … Dying is no great matter. What's unbearable is the thought of never seeing her again." Act Four, Scene IV of _Cyrano de Bergerac_. This is a prequel to "Je te rends ton Amour" directly related to what is introduced in its Chapter 10. When Rosalie storms out of the house, in one of her infamous rages, only Esme dares follow her.

**Setting: **Forks, Washington, on the way from Forks High, then at the Cullen Residence and surrounding grounds, October 18th 2003, late afternoon and evening.

**Warning:** The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.

* * *

We had arrived in Forks a couple months ago, on the edge of the Olympic Natural Park. We had settled in our brand new, glass manufactured, open to Mother Nature, modern, wooden mansion, that Esme had had so much fun and delight restoring and decorating. The mansion was actually amazing and Esme knew what she was doing, I just couldn't bring myself to appreciate it. Not that I would have commented on it, no certainly not: Esme had Alice, Edward or her precious Carlisle for that.

It had been two months and I was miserable, that was, as miserable as a Hale could be. Truth be told, the Cullen might have been more miserable than me, for 'miserable' to a Hale, means unbearable to the rest of the world.

It was another of these days, when the roaring of my BMW M3 was a soothing song to my ears, but not even that melody could calm my nerves. I was driving back from school to the Cullen Residence as fast as my red baby allowed me to and that was fast. Emmett was in the passenger seat, while Jasper and Alice had decided to ride with Edward in his boring Volvo. Volvos were good cars, and some were actually very stylish, but Edward, have taste in cars? He was as bad with cars as he was good at music, and considering how music was about the only thing I admired about Edward, that was saying a lot.

We had left Denali, thank God, but not at a convenient time. Emmett was finally starting to realize what I had been telling him about us and how our relationship just wasn't working for him. We had been able to discuss separating. He had even grown closer to Tanya, the blond and popular succubus Cullen's cousin of the great North, who after being rejected time and again by Edward had eventually realized my Emmett was actually a handsome and capable man as well.

Not that she was the woman Emmett should be with, certainly not! But he needed a transition. An experimented, very sexually active transition, that would reassure him in his manhood, fulfill his long restrained needs and help him blow off some steam. He could fall in love and find a mate later, but only after he had gotten over his hormonal teenager deprived of sex for 70 years … Well besides the few extra-conjugal amusement I had encouraged him to have. So, yes, later, when he would be satiated of the blond thing, and possibly her sisters, we could find him a nice, gentle vampire girl, with pretty non-blond hair, sweet and actually well mannered to make him happy for eternity.

So it was working just fine, another few months and Emmett would have had been doing what Emmett should have had been doing for decades, which is actually fucking somebody's brains out for real and realizing I was not it. And why, would I want that? Well because then, we would have had officially separated, he would have had agreed after a while to sign the divorce papers Jasper would have had drawn up for us, Emmett would have a rightful chance to happiness, a chance to live the life he deserved, and, I would be free to leave, they would be free of me.

Free, as in liberated of my marriage, of Alaska, of Carlisle's and Esme's contrite faces of sympathy at my failed marriage … that was not a marriage. Only they didn't know really, because they all thought I was too traumatized to have a fulfilling sexual life. They all thought, thanks to Edward stupid gift and their stupid nosiness that I was desperately in love but frigid forever.

All but Alice, of course, but that was an entirely different story.

I was not desperately in love with Emmett, nor eternally frigid. I loved my Emmett, my best friend, my man, my sweet, loving and caring Emmett, my knight in shining armor, my eager puppy-dog boy. I loved my friend, and we were truly very fond of each other, but he would never be 'it' for me, he was missing some attributes and had too much of others.

I had known that for a good forty years, and sometimes it felt more like I had known it my whole existence. So, yes, I was happy to leave Denali, except it had not been for a decade or two on my own in my New York heaven, or the rest of the civilized world for that matter. No, it had been for 'nowheresville' Forks, Washington, USA, and its 3,120 inhabitants, but worse than that, its high school. We were going to high school all over again, and Emmett, was back to being his old lovely self, preventing my every need, instead of exploring his libido.

Emmett knew I loved women. He knew of my affairs and my trips. He knew I didn't love him that way, not anymore, if I ever did. He knew but he could not move on from me of his own accord, he felt responsible, he loved me, he was my husband, my companion, and we were not unhappy, actually we had great times. I knew he would not leave me unless I made him do so, or until I met a vampire woman who would steal me my heart from him. So I had put in motion operation 'sex Emmett away from Rosalie', and was it ever working.

That is, until Carlisle announced we were returning to our old haunt of Forks, Washington.

Once in Forks, we had focused on getting situated and enrolled in Forks High: Jasper, Emmett and I as juniors, Edward and Alice as freshmen. Carlisle was happy at the hospital and Esme was happy being a stay-at-home mom. We were all supposedly happy at being adopted and rich teenagers: a big happy family for eternity … or so were we supposed to be.

I sighed. All the pretense was weighing down on me, and I couldn't bear faking ease and happiness, when things clearly weren't that way for me at all. I pulled in the driveway. The garage doors were already opened, and I could see Carlisle's Series 7 Sedan parked in its usual spot, close to Esme's Z4 Roadster. I added my M3 to the picture. We were the perfect family poster for BMW. I exited my car and closed the driver's door gently, before storming out of the garage, through the back door, crossing the entrance hall/room where Esme and Carlisle were waiting to greet us home from school.

I walked steaming, past the both of them announcing.

"I am done … That's it! _C'est terminé, finis, je n'y retournerai plus, point final !_"

It was done, over, I was not going back, period!

French was such an appropriate language for exasperation, over the years, and I had that I would always rely on French when I was upset, or exasperated. And that was precisely my feeling. Stupid high school! Stupid human children! It was stupid, aggravating and boring me to death. I wanted to get away. I wanted to live, to be myself, to make my own choices, to get rid of the frustration that was sticking to my skin. I wanted out, out of my golden cage, restricted to what I was expected to be for the sake of pretense. I had had enough, enough of the masquerade.

I stormed up the stairs with the same attitude and went into my bedroom and removed the clothes I was wearing as I walked into my closet. I retrieved a pair of faded blue jeans, one of my favorite designer ripped on two layers t-shirt, and a pair of classic Vans shoes. I dressed, and went to my coiffeuse, sitting down in front of the mirror. I looked at myself for a couple minutes, aggravated, and then decided to pull my hair in a very loose ponytail. I placed my cell phone on the table, with my car keys, and took off my wedding band as well as all my jewelry, even my Cullen's crest, throwing it with the mix in the bowl I always used to empty my pockets or my purse in.

I went back down the stairs as angrily as I had climbed them, to find the entire family gathered in the living room, looking at me.

"What?" I spat at them.

"Babe … I think everybody is just wondering if you're okay …" Emmett said diplomatically.

"What does it look like?" I snarled. I was so ready to be alone.

"Rosalie dear, is something the matter? Did something happen at school today?" Esme asked me lovingly, a frown of concern adorning her traits. "You have been so upset these past couple of months."

"No, nothing happened, I am perfectly fine." My reply was layered heavily with sarcasm. "And now if you would all excuse me, I am going hunting."

God, I needed to kill something …

"You're extremely upset and frustrated Rosalie." Jasper said in his calm, slow southern voice. I looked at him, and the concern on his face. His feelings were genuine and real, and he was not trying to use his power to calm me down. He actually knew better than try that, but he was telling me he could if I needed him to.

Jasper, my 'twin' by all accounts, was, beside Emmett, my favorite man in the Cullen family. We understood each other, there was no need for excessive conversation, not like there needed to be with all the those other talkative Cullen. When we did have one, it was usually very educated and inspired, on philosophical or historical subjects, though anthropology and languages were also our favorites. We had a shared sense of logic and analysis, and we could always find common grounds in our disagreements. We were different, yet we appreciated each other's singularity, and in that way we were the same.

"Did you just now come to realize this, Jasper? I'm impressed with your acumen! I will go now and express those marvelous emotions by killing something ..." I stated again, reaching for the door.

Only to be interrupted from my purpose by none other than his lordship Edward 'pain in the ass' Cullen.

"Rosalie, you hunted yesterday, and you deliberately are hiding your thoughts. What is going on?" He then asked, stepping between me and the front door.

I gave him a death glare and thought clearly: _"The 'something' to kill ought to move out of my way if it values its existence …"_

"Or someone …" I added smiling, for everyone's benefit, then continued:

"I said that I am not going back to high school, that I am done. And now, as I already told you, I will be going to hunt. Now," I said, directly to Edward, "if you will excuse me …"

I glared at Edward, forcing him out of my way, then unimpeded, finally departed the house.

I felt more than heard Emmett follow me, and I was about to tell him off when Alice's chiming voice interrupted him and said:

"I would not do that if I were you, Emmett …"

I shook off the looks piercing my back and with that, I darted toward the woods, leaving them behind me and quite happy to do so.

I ran for a while, about half-way into our territory, and the turned North toward Canada. I went deep into the forest, as deeply as I could go before reaching Seattle. I stopped and closed my eyes as I breathed in deeply, tuning myself to the lively rumbling of the forest. I could hear the birds, the movement of hooded on the mossy grounds, the little clicks of insects climbing up and down branches. I could hear water running, and the wind singing. I focused more on the scents though, the amazing scents of moss and humus, the pine and giant sequoias resin, the humidity, carrying the fragrance of so many different flowers and grass, I could not identify them all. I could smell the traces of animal presence, many deer, a mountain lion looking for its dinner, a mother bear with her cub, some wolves and interestingly enough, a few moose.

I decided on the moose, I had not done that in a while. Moose was Esme's favorite, therefore, to be willfully contrarian, I had decided to stay away from them. She would have been excessively delighted to know I actually liked her favorite. However, I was feeling quite defiant at the moment and since Esme was not here after all, I could have my fun with her favorite dinner. I leaped in the closest tree and crouched on a mid-level branch. I closed my eyes again. I didn't like hunting using my eyes, though I could have simply find the tracks and followed them straight to my prey. No, what I liked was to listen to my prey, sense it, and smell it. I liked hunting from above, leaping from branch to branch, rock to rock, avoiding the ground entirely.

I could have run and raced with my prey, like Edward or charged it head-on, like Emmett. He was such a brute, he found his prey and charged it, ramming into it as hard as he could without pulverizing the poor animal. Carlisle and Esme were more refined in their hunting: they liked to circle their prey, and then go for the quick kill. Jasper was more strategic: he liked to decide where he would have his prey and pushed it until it couldn't do anything but go where he had chosen, then he would kill his prey in a very clean movement. Alice was all over the place, unsurprisingly: she was moody in her hunting, but whatever she felt like, she was lethal, albeit graceful, her kills were always beautiful, in a very disturbing way. I was as agile as she was graceful, as Edward was fast or Emmett strong. I liked aerial tracking because it was difficult, but extremely stimulating.

I knew about the Cullen killing styles because I liked to track them during their hunting, without their knowledge. I even had Edward fooled, but not Alice, no one should ever bet against Alice. It had been a game between us for a several decades. She would sometimes go hunting alone, without Jasper, and I would track her, hard and fast, as to see if her gift would recess when she was actually giving ways to her instincts. I had surprised her a few times, in the middle of her kills, but we also had a couple of fights. She was a feisty little thing when she was all excited by the hunt, and we were vampires, our instincts could take over the best of us quite easily, especially while hunting. She had pouted and whined several times that it was not fair that I would not let her hunt me. I had granted her permission a very few selected times, but the outcome had been quite unexpected.

The hunt was a thread of mixed emotions for me, and I hunted alone, as a Hale should.

I was listening attentively for my moose, the couple that were in the area, and I patiently waited, until I heard them. The sound of antlers, crashing into each other, that was very specific to moose, especially the males, because of their palmate antlers. I bounced to the next trunk in the direction of the sound and ran on several big branches, jumping and leaping, enthralled by the excitement and speed of my movements, in the direction of my moose. It was being playful, with another young male, in a tiny clearing by a river. Actually, there was a nice pond of water not far at all, with pretty flat rocks and a small waterfall, as I recognized the area, and I realized it probably was where they regrouped for water.

I was debating on making my presence known to the animal, so they would start running, and prolong my hunt, but I decided against it. It was crueler than I felt like being right then, and being so close to the animals, I could smell the scent of their blood, hear the melodious song of their powerful hearts, feel the rush of strength in their contracting muscles.

I felt the venom rush to my mouth, the birth of moisture between my thighs, and I knew my eyes had turned ebony black. I felt the rest of the world disappear from my peripheral vision, from my mind, from my heart. I felt my focus, zoomed on the moose, dismissing my emotions entirely, but the joy of my future kill. I climbed higher in my tree, looming above my prey, standing tall, on the branch. I opened my arms and dived, face first, waiting until the very last moment to shift, feet first, landing graceful and frightening, on the soft ground, just in front of them, one knee to the ground, already aiming for the first male, grabbing his antlers, laying him to the ground in one swift movement, to the side, breaking his neck with a forceful torsion. I looked up and leaped after the second moose that had recovered from the shock of my attack and had darted toward the woods. In a few jumps I was in a tree, locating the moose easily, and gaining on him with every leap.

I caught up to him and jumped on his back, again grabbing the antlers, and then, after sliding off his back to his left side, I planted both my feet on the ground, turning the moose with the strength of my momentum, laying him to the ground, I kneeled beside him. While he was still breathing hard from his run and numb from his fear and adrenaline, I sank my teeth in his carotid artery, swallowing eagerly a couple times, as his blood was pulsating in my mouth, before ending the beast's sufferings. I embraced his large figure and lay against the warm, soft coat of the gentle animal, as I drank from him, slowly … it was heavenly.

The taste was actually nicer than deer. Moose blood was richer, and more flowery. I reveled in the freshness and thickness of the animal's blood, feeling my entire body relax, my arousal growing deliciously, and surrendering to the satisfaction of my kill and the sustenance it was giving me. Drinking blood was orgasmic. There was no other word for it. Even the blood of animals was orgasmic, I was not sure how to imagine drinking human blood could be, and really it was safer not to go there. Drinking blood usually made me sexually stimulated, and it was one of the reasons why I hunted alone. It was not uncommon for me to undo my jeans and satisfy my own needs during my hunts, and I really did not need any witness for that.

Once the second moose was dry, I walked back with its corpse to the first moose I had killed in the clearing. I deposited my burden not far from it and walked to my first prey. It was bigger, and its coat was darker as well. I kneeled in front of it, closed my eyes in anticipation and sank my teeth into its throat letting the warm precious liquid flow into my mouth, slowly, because the animal was dead, its heart was not pumping at all anymore. I was actually moaning of satisfaction, enjoying my heaven on earth.

It was then that I felt a shiver run from the back of my head to my finger tips.

Somebody was watching me.

* * *

**A/N:**

I would very much like to dedicate this story to the amazing, talented, incredible and unexpected BoozeMoose.

I didn't know there was in this world someone like you, someone who could be so much, feel so much and understand so much, as you walk calmly and peacefully, comfortable and confident in my world of chaos and passion, when I struggle with each of the vibrating things that I feel, trying so hard to expand and extend, to be me, the best of me, tearing the walls that rebuild themselves every time I take them apart, and never stop, never ever stop.

You are also vulnerable and delicate, and I can't help but love, that temper of yours, and that smug grin you wear, so full of yourself you are.

Esme, you represent her so well, and she fits into you beautifully. There is only you, who could make me give you Rosalie, and so unexpectedly.

Enjoy your story Tyger.

With all my love,

C.


	2. Chapter 2: Beneath

**Synopsis: **Rosalie has been followed, and when she finds out who her mysterious intruder is, things take a rather unexpected turn.

**Setting: **Forks, Washington, Olympic National Park, October 18th 2003, late afternoon and evening.

**Warning:** The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.

* * *

I focused my senses on my surroundings, looking for my enemy, without abandoning my prey, hoping he would be convinced I was too distracted to notice his presence. My sense of smell was not informing me of anything, my intruder was walking against the wind, but I could hear his feet, well her feet, because the steps were too light to be male. I let go of my prey and closed my opened mouth to swallow the last of blood that was still in my throat. I then leaned on my knees, ready to sprint, looking straight up in the direction of my female intruder, growling and snarling loudly enough for my message to be clear.

"Rosalie …" said a whispering voice.

She was walking slowly toward me, as if not to provoke me, but it was too late. I opted for the direct approach, and ran straight into her. The shock echoed into the forest loud enough that birds and animals darted away from the scene. I pushed her hard enough through a couple trees, holding both her arms. Once we had stopped, she freed herself of my hands and tried to escape to my left. I grabbed her left hand and bent her arm behind her, stopping her from getting away from me, and pushed her hard into the ground, my right knee in her back.

Still holding her arm with my right hand, I wrapped my left arm around her neck and started squeezing, pulling her to me while pushing in her back with my knee, in a motion that could only mean her death by decapitation.

"Rosalie … Please …" Her voice said again, choked.

I tightened my grip, though she was not fighting me. Her submission was adding to my excitement, and killing her would feel even better than killing the moose. She had intruded on my feeding, she wanted my prey.

She had to die.

"Rosalie … it's me … please Rosalie, I am begging you … come back!" Her voice said lower than before, almost whispering.

I felt her body against mine, it was going to give way very soon, and it made me smile. "She is begging you" a voice said in the back of my mind. "She knows your name." The same voice said. How could she know my name? I leaned more into her and placed my face to the side of hers, feeling her hair caress me, as she whispered:

"Rosalie … I love you …"

"She loves you", said the voice. She was going to die and all she could say was 'I love you'. How pathetic. I closed my eyes for the fraction of a fleeting moment, and inhaled a breath of air.

Her scent was so familiar. It was angelic. It was home. Her scent was tattooed onto my being, it was embedded in every fiber of my being. It was written in my very soul.

I would recognize her scent anywhere, out of an infinity of scents, lost in a crowd of hundreds of thousands, I would be able to find her.

"Esme…" I breathed.

"Yes dear … it's Esme," she whispered back, then: "Let me loose now darling, please …"

I did let go of the pressure on Esme's neck, yet still I was pleased that she was begging. I also relaxed my hold of her arm and the knee in her back, but I didn't move from the back of her, nor released her from my arms. She was still intruding on my hunt and although I didn't wish to kill her, my beast desired nothing more but to rip her apart.

She turned around in my arms, facing me. Her eyes blackened, by her instincts, smelling the blood on my face, the rush of adrenaline from our fight. It was quite impressive that she had been able to refrain from fighting me back, and yet, her eyes were filled with defiance and something else I could not quite decipher.

I snarled, and growled low, letting it rumble into my chest, as to show her I was in control of her, and she had better not move. She wrapped her arms around my back, letting her hands rest on the small of my back. I heard the discreet purr in her throat. I tilted my head slightly, looking at her, surprised by her unexpected inviting response to my dominating stance, while I felt my beast shift inside me, going from the desire to kill my enemy to the desire of possessing the vampire beneath me.

I lifted us up instantly and pushed her forcefully, back on the ground some fifty feet away from me. I turned around and ran back to my moose, stopping dead in my tracks when I felt the roar of my beast inside, and the proof of my embarrassment flood my jeans in between my legs, which were now ripped in several places. I was torn in several directions: I felt the need to kill Esme, or to lay her on the ground and ravage her body until she submitted to me, and then there was the slight trace of reason that was telling me "she is your mother" was also relentlessly telling me that she had offered herself to me.

I turned back around, to find her right there in my face, looking at me with a smile, and that look in her eyes, that I had never seen before, this mix of defiance, and … Was it desire and arousal? My question was instantly answered when I smelled the delicate fragrance of her arousal, and there was no mistaking it, as much as I knew I should have wished for the scent to be something else.

"Rosalie," she purred, putting her forehead to mine, "oh. God. Rosalie …"

I could see her teeth, in her opened mouth, while she was breathing, fast, and ragged, almost moaning, tasting as I was, I knew so, my own arousal on her taste buds. The scent of blood was so strong, at our feet, enhancing the intensity of our bodily silent conversation. I felt her hand on my stomach, and I shivered, physically trembling, from the bolt of electricity I had felt from her touch, making her growl in satisfaction.

She pressed her nose to mine, and moved slightly to the left, her cheek to mine, whispering my name repeatedly, closer to my ear every time, breathing in my neck, pressing her lips to my jugular, back to my jaw, and her tongue darted out of her mouth, touching my earlobe, followed by a little divine sucking noise, sending shivers and reverberation of her purrs into my spine, my extremities, my clitoris, and the depth of my core. I growled, and it was a growl of pleasure, of want, of frustration, of annoyance at my body, struck and stuck in limbo, refusing to move at my command, while my senses where experiencing the most deliciously forbidden touches and overload I had ever felt.

I was supposed to possess _her_, but _she_ was rendering_ me_ defenseless.

Esme was licking and sucking on my earlobe, on my skin, kissing me and moaning in my ear, when suddenly both her hands grazed my skin under my shirt, gently stroking my flesh, exploring my sides, which resulted in the total halt of my breathing, after sucking all the air I could between my teeth, my stomach retreating from her hands, as a reflex of my sensitivity to her touch. She smiled against my ear and touched me more eagerly with her hands. Then I felt her fingernail bite at my skin as her hands continued all the way to the valley of my breasts. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, giving her more access to my neck, which she immediately claimed, sucking on my smooth skin eagerly, grazing it with her teeth, as she was slightly biting me.

She rested her hands for an instant, and then let her left hand slide around me to my back, enclosing my waist in her grip, pressing me to her own body, deliciously tensed. Her right hand shadowed the roundness of my left breast, appreciating the fullness of it, tracing its shape with her fingertips, before grasping it fully, kneading at it, and massaging it firmly, taking my breast in her hand like it had always been hers. A guttural sound escaped my throat, undefined, but charged with pleasure and want, for more of her, more of her touch, more of her fingertips now pinching my nipple, rolling it slightly, pinching it with her nails, like teeth almost, while she was kissing me and sucking on my neck so diligently.

I felt my motor command regain my brain. I ordered my hands to enclose Esme's waist, under her shirt as well, actually ripping some of the buttons, while I lifted her undershirt from her pants. She purred louder once I finally touched her skin. She pressed herself into me even harder. I felt her blazing core, flirt with my thigh, and I lowered my hands to her buttocks, pressing and squeezing her strongly, so strongly that she arched her back, pressing her body even more into me. She moaned loudly. I looked down at her only to meet her eyes, eager and expectant, hungry almost .. Hungry for _me_. There was something animalistic about her, about me, about us, that was so arousing, yet, I felt the surge of warmth invade my heart, at the reverence in her eyes, the love and the wild desire that was burning both of us.

I lowered my face to hers, very slowly, and I felt her move toward me, looking only at her lips, liberating little whiffs of her breath, her delicious scent, that had she been human I would have devoured to the last drop of her essence. I felt venom rush to my mouth, anticipating the taste of her lips, of her tongue, that I had wanted to gain knowledge of since I had been reborn. Maybe more than anything else I had known of Esme, all she had offered and laid forth for me to have, the taste of her was what I had desired the most, and one I was up to now absolutely persuaded I would never possess.

Delicately, our lips met, once, immobile, then a second time, more fervent, and then again, feverish, as I felt her mouth open, slightly. I engulfed myself into her mouth, feeling her moan vibrate into my throat, as my eyes rolled in their sockets, the tip of my tongue meeting hers, her venom and mine colliding into each other, melting into one another, forcing the both of us to swallow the fiery yet incomparable liquid of both our scents together. Our tongues intertwined passionately. I felt her jaw, closing and opening slightly as her tongue swirled around mine, demanding access to my mouth. My tongue retreated to my own mouth and I took a breath, disconnecting myself from her hypnotizing lips. I felt her smile at me again, as she nibbled on my bottom lip, then my upper lip, darting her tongue out to lick where she had just slightly bitten, very quickly, making me open my mouth to her obediently. She kissed me, strongly, dominantly and yet her dominance was gentle and loving, just as Esme was, though the air was heavily scented with our mutual passion.

She had grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and as she did, she pulled us down, forcing me back, against my moose, laying on top of me and kissing me again, forcefully, while she undid my belt buckle and my jeans, introducing her fingertips inside my pants, tracing the edge of my boxer briefs. I could feel the warmth of the animal beneath me, and we both could smell the blood, gently oozing out of its neck, doubling the strength of my arousal, and Esme's. Instead of shredding her shirt, I willed my fingers to undo her shirt gently, and what was left of her buttons. Once her shirt was tossed to the side, I didn't restrain myself anymore, ripping her undershirt for good. I moaned when her soft and perfect skin touched mine, feeling her nipples tickle mine, as she leaned into me.

She broke our kiss and looked at me intensely for a moment, then to my astonishment, she hoisted herself on her right hand, above me, actually grazing my lips with her nipples and I heard her bite into the moose's neck, swallowing eagerly, then more calmly, while I took her right nipple in my mouth and sucked on it as she was draining the moose. She drew more blood, but didn't swallow, and taking her nipple out of my mouth on her way, she came back to my mouth, kissing me hungrily, while releasing the blood she was holding, allowing me to drink from her. I moaned again, at the outrageously erotic image that formed in my mind, seeing both of us, as I felt my core release more of my arousal on my underwear, soaking them in the process, while Esme's left hand was caressing my abdomen, exploring my skin and curves. I realized my hips were moving slightly in rhythm with her movements and she was rocking with me, my right leg between hers, her core resting on my thigh.

The friction was delicious, but I wanted more of Esme in my hands. I undid her pants and pushed them and her underwear back as far as she would allow me to move, touching her with my fingertips, grabbing her bared ass now, feeling her hips grind into mine harder. She parted from my mouth again, and went back to the moose, drawing more blood, and when she came back to me, she gestured for me to lift myself up slightly, as she undressed me in a couple of swift but controlled movements.

I was laying naked on the grass, bare and vulnerable to her eyes and touch, watching her, as she took off the remnants of her clothes, kneeling in front of me, putting a hand on my right thigh as she spread my legs enough for her to press herself to my core, devouring me with her eyes while she let the blood in her mouth slip slowly onto my chest and stomach. She looked quite smug with herself, being aware of the need she aroused inside of me, feeling my wetness build, and my vagina engorge with my desire.

She grabbed my hands with hers and lifted them above my head, licking at the blood she had left on me, sucking on my marbled skin, and neck, grinding into me even more. She released my hands and I immediately tried to place them on her, needing to touch her body as well, but she grabbed a hold of them again and repositioned them above my head, biting me a little harder to signal me what I was to do. I felt so incapacitated by the intensity of her touch, her kisses, her sucking, my will to fight her was yielding to my will to be taken by her, she was not having it any other way.

As she was licking me clean of the blood pooled on my marbled skin, she kissed her way down my stomach, to my abdomen, and while she repositioned herself between my legs, I felt the walls of my vagina flex in anticipation. She placed her right hand to my inner right thigh and pushed my leg open, as she used her left hand to caress under my left thigh, and lift it up to her left shoulder.

She moaned and whined: "Rosalie … My beautiful Rosalie …" and closed her eyes, as her face came closer to my sex, breathing me in deeply. I was watching her, incredulously compliant, compelled to give myself over to Esme, so ready, aching for her to take me. I had no idea what was happening and why I would let Esme, out of all people, be on top of me this way, but as I laid there, beneath her, my only desire was for Esme to claim me and claim me so hard that all I would be able to do was scream her name, over and over again.

She opened her eyes, looking up at me, and paused for a second, offering me her most beautiful smile, before lowering her face to my vagina once more, this time using her tongue to gently part my labia. She dipped her tongue into my wetness and let it back in her mouth, tasting me, swallowing me with an expression of pure delight on her face. She moaned, and I gasped, as she did it again, a little deeper this time. I closed my eyes, reveling in the already insanely pleasurable touch she was administrating to me with her tongue, and she said firmly:

"Rosalie, open your eyes … I want you to watch."

And I did exactly that.

She opened me wider, using her hands, and licked me from my entrance all the way up to my clitoris, spreading my wetness all around and over it. My clitoris became harder, and more sensitive, swelling at every lick she gave it, going back and forth to my entrance, taking my wetness with her. I was biting my bottom lip, as to not let any noise out of my mouth, but the state of excitement I was in was so great, I could not hide any of it. I started purring, and she smiled against my clitoris, then applied her left thumb to it, drawing gentle circles, looking for the little area that was the right place to stroke.

"Purr for me beautiful Rosalie, my delicious Kitty …" were her words to me, as she was making love to me, in a fashion that was only hers.

She licked back down to my entrance, tracing it with the tip of her tongue several times, playing in my moisture, taking some to my anus, where she licked and massaged with her tongue, growing my arousal and desire to a critical level. She went back to my entrance, and again, traced it with the tip of her tongue, letting her right fingers touch me as well.

I could feel the anticipation draw more of my moisture out of me, and it was slowly pouring onto her tongue. I was watching her, crazed with desire. I could feel her frame tremble. I very gently moved my hands to my stomach, and then used my right fingers to touch her beautiful caramel hair, feeling the need to touch her, while my clitoris was threatening to have me explode, and her playful tongue was driving me to insanity, or more precisely to the edge of my orgasm.

And then without warning, she pushed her tongue as deep into me as she could go, and I moaned louder than I ever thought possible. I arched my back into her hard. Her left hand left my clitoris and grabbed my hand, our finger intertwining together. She pushed harder at every thrust, and the thought of her tongue penetrating me repeatedly was almost as good as the feeling of it. She quickened her rhythm, and I felt the power of my pleasure, gathering itself, in the center of my chest, growing at a very fast and steady path, a little more each time she went in and out of me.

All there was, was me and her and her and me, and that surge of cold venom flowing in her mouth, while my moans became whines and my whines became cries, and I felt the wave of my orgasm crush me, washing over all my senses, directly into her mouth, with my left hand entangled in her hair. I felt a scream tearing itself out of my throat, with a growl, as she climbed back to me, looking into my eyes, pushing three fingers inside of me forcefully, gaining another scream out of me. I placed my right hand between us, and reached between her legs. As she was riding my right thigh, she lifted herself up immediately, leaving so much wetness on her skin that I could feel it dripping off of her. I penetrated her as forcefully as she did me, with three fingers as well. We began to thrust into each other with a feverish fervor, a frenzy of pleasure, of want and of need.

She was looking into my eyes, with the weakness of love. As I was pumping in and out of her, I heard her sigh, "Rosalie, my Rosalie …"

From the forcefulness of our lovemaking, I felt the moose's spine break beneath me, and heard the cracking of its rib cage. Its blood began spraying all over us, like a thin drizzle of rain, when her mouth crashed into mine, tasting like that tantalizing scent of hers and blood. She moaned into my mouth. I growled, knowing her orgasm was building as strong and fast as mine was, again, feeling her walls clenching my fingers, so tight, inside of her.

She was divine, moving her hips so gracefully, yet needfully. She was so vulnerable as she claimed a pleasure I would have never dreamed of denying her. She was not the toughest, nor the strongest, her resolve had betrayed her time and again, and maybe with all her love and warmth, she was the most human of us all, but as she was here, on top of me, I realized her true power, and I understood why I had fled from her all my life. She was my weakness, she made me better, she made me more Rosalie and less Hale, with each of her kisses and hugs, each of her loving look and eternal acceptance. There was no escape from Esme, no escape from her unconditional love, and I was lying beneath her, overpowered by the pleasure and intoxication of her.

Her orgasm and mine crashed into each other, her mouth parted from mine as she wrapped herself around me, still thrusting into me as I was, her face almost to my back so much she was pressing herself to me, and I felt her body let go as she cried:

"Oh Rose … Oh my Rosalie … hmmmm god Rosalie …"

And I was breathing so hard, in the nape of her neck, high of her screaming my name, reveling in her scent, and as her moans brought me over the edge, I could not help but bite down hard at her smooth and delicate flesh, keeping my teeth locked on her, riding both our orgasms, as my venom was sinking into her flesh, I swallowed a couple mouth full of her venom, marking her forever.

"Rosalie … Rosalie … Rosalie …" She said aloud then whispering my name, lovingly after I released her from my mouth and both our bodies relaxed in the immediate aftermath of our pleasure.

I could feel her cum coating my fingers, and sipping slowly past her entrance, onto me, and I desperately wanted to taste it. Exiting her vagina ever so delicately, I brought my fingers to my mouth, and wrapped my lips around them, licking and sucking them clean. She felt so good, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back a little, enough for her to see my face, as I was swallowing her in my mouth.

I felt her smile, and I reopened my eyes, to see her soft mischievous expression on her beautiful face and I was awestruck by all that she could make me feel.

"I … Esme, I …" I looked down, for a moment, as she was waiting for me to say what she knew I was going to say. I looked back up, with resolve, and said clearly: "I love you Esme."

And with more warmth and love I had ever seen in the face of a vampire, or a human, she kissed me tenderly and very softly on my lips, telling me with all the conviction she could gather.

"I love you, Rosalie Lillian Hale, always."

She made me more Rosalie and less Hale.

* * *

**A/N:**

[1] While I am at it, let's make it clear, so that we don't have any misinterpreting. This, here, this story, is not incest.

Yes Esme is Rosalie's mother, symbolically and in facts. However I would like to stress the fact that, they are vampires with instincts and behaviors very different than our human laws and morals, and dare I say taboos. The bound between Esme and Rosalie is actually stronger than just a mother-daughter relationship. Esme is not making love to her daughter, she is making love to Rosalie, all of Rosalie, and no, Esme is not going to leave Carlisle for Rosalie. Esme loves her husband and is very happily married.

I guess what I am trying to say here, is that we are all aware that the Olympian Coven is built and functions because each of the individuals making it choose to be there and love their fellow vampires with a depth to which I don't think us, little tiny and weak humans can actually achieve and handle without freaking out. Don't forget, that for as much as they are frozen in time, they endure and their mind can process, manage and handle, much more than we can.

Acknowledging these specific bounds and potentials, that are, in my opinion, implicit in SM's books, simply allows us, the writers, wildly borrowing from a universe we did not create, to explore the depth of the vampire nature.

I don't know if you ever thought about it, but personally, I see SM's characters as clay, as if she had started something and abandoned it before she could explore the incredible depth of the world she gave birth to. This is in a way why I read twilight fan-fiction and why I actually write it as well. I can explore feelings, emotions, memories, imagination, within the borders of a world I like, and was left unfinished.

In other words, Esme and Rosalie are adults, giving ways to their instincts, and the love they feel for each other, unknowingly and yet, those things register within themselves, giving them a conscience of their actions. They choose to surrender themselves to the intensity of this instant of grace, to one another, and I guess you will have to stick around to know what it might or might not mean.

You are all welcome to review with your thoughts and actions of course. I will answer in kind, as I have so far to every one of you.

[2] I was listening to Johannes Brahms Symphony No.4 in E minor, Op. 98: Allegro non troppo which is the first part of this four pieces symphony that last all together about 40 minutes and was his very last symphony which was written between 1884 and 1885. The symphony is scored for two flutes (one doubling on piccolo), two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, a contrabassoon, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani, triangle (third movement only), and strings. The Symphony is divided in four, like I said: Allegro non troppo, Andate moderato, Allegro giocosco, and Allegro energico e passionate. If you have the possibility, indulge yourself in one of the most beautiful symphony of all times, and most likely the most famous by Brahms.

[3] Not all things have an explanation, not all things follow the same logic again and again. Let me explain: sometimes, we have a routine, with things or people, and we're used to see them always react the same way, or always cross the street at the same intersection every morning, and some other times, well, we get more creative, or we do something completely crazy. Sometimes the ones we love are unexpected, and they do things we don't understand though we know they have a purpose.

Rosalie and Esme have known each other for 70 years, and Esme has put up with Rosalie's tantrums, and existential crisis, just like Rosalie has endured Esme's mothering all that time. There is no reason for Esme to be different, for Rosalie to allow it, no reason other than, obviously, Rosalie is enraged, again, and nothing has worked so far.

Now seriously, I know it's a little frustrating my dear, and my dears, but I didn't want anything to distract us from what's happening here. The why of the how (or is it the contrary?) is coming, I promise.

As always, thank you for reading,

C.


	3. Chapter 3: Say it

**Synopsis: **Rosalie reveals a little of herself to Esme, and they decide to get back to the Cullen residence … well they try.

**Setting: **Forks, Washington, Olympic National Park, October 18th 2003, evening.

**Warning:** The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.

* * *

Esme's head was resting gently in the crook of my neck, her body lazily entangled into mine, caressing the skin of my chest softly with her finger tips.

"Rosalie?"

"Yes?" I answered returning my frame of mind to the immediate moment, and focusing my attention on the woman I was holding in my arms.

"Tell me why you have been so upset this past couple of months." she asked, directly but gently.

"I don't want to be in Forks, and I don't want to be in high school again." I said simply.

She sighed in my neck, and kissed the hollow of my neck lightly. She said nothing, and I resumed caressing the shape of the bite I had marked her with.

"Is it painful?" I asked a trace of shame in my voice.

"No, dear, it is not anymore. It was a little when I felt your venom sink in, but I am fine now." she said reassuringly.

"Carlisle will see it." I said, cautiously.

"Yes he will." she answered, simply.

"What will you tell him?" I whispered.

"There is no need for you to concern yourself with that, Rosalie, I will deal with Carlisle." She answered me, indicating clearly, with her tone, that she didn't want this subject discussed further.

"I will deal with Edward as well." She added, sensing where my thoughts were taking me.

"You don't have to. I can handle him perfectly well." I averred, already looking forward to the confrontation with Edward.

"I know, dear. I just don't want you to." She said, knowingly and warningly.

I remained silent.

After a moment, she asked again, quietly: "Rosalie?"

"Yes?" I answered, again, patiently.

"Why are you not concerned about Emmett's reaction?"

I cursed myself mentally for being so careless in the conversation. I didn't know how to answer her. Part of me wanted to tell her the truth, and maybe now was the best time, but what if she could not understand?

And thus started my never ending inner argument, as I always have, when I know what is right and nobody else does. The voice in the back of my head said:

"She just made love with you, idiot!"

"Yes, but most of that was instinct, she didn't mean to."

"Right," it answered scathingly, "when she pushed her tongue and fingers inside of you, asking you to watch while swallowing your cum, she was acting on instinct purely … And I am the Queen of England!"

Instead of further pointless debate, I answered her quickly: "Esme, I am leaving Emmett."

I had caressed the hope that this would satisfy her motherly need to know and that she would leave me well enough alone. There were too many hornets' nests astir in this abominable existence already.

Of course, she was not ready to let it go.

"You were going to leave Denali on your own, weren't you?" She asked, sadly, her body tensing against mine.

"Yes …" I whispered to her, and added silently in my thoughts: _"I was going to leave, you, too, Esme."_

I tightened my embrace, enveloping her into me, pressing my face to her neck as she was doing mine.

I inhaled slowly and deeply, and then said, as steadily and confident as I could, but gently against her skin: "I love women Esme."

I felt the smile on her lips, a little smile, sorrowful but loving, and her hand caressing my hair, when she said:

"Did you really think I did not already know?" She went on: "My beloved Rosalie, I have known for as long as you have and maybe longer."

I was bewildered. "But … how? And why, then, didn't you say anything?" I asked her.

"Tell me how you would have reacted, if I had walked in your privacy and announced to all, 'Rosalie dear, we should arrange your divorce and have you meet a lovely vampire girl, who shall satisfy your needs much more appropriately'?" She said, in a mocking version of her own voice.

Then she added, teasingly: "I know what your trips are for, and also about the mischief you and Alice like to share." She nibbled on my neck a couple times.

I chuckled ruefully. So she knew about that as well. I wondered if Alice had told her, or if she had maybe guessed on her own. How much more of my fortress had she penetrated?

"I haven't heard your beautiful laugh in so long," she whispered, her voice edged with regret. "I want you to be happy, Rosalie. It is all I want for you, all I ever wanted for you. I simply wish you would not have to leave in order to find that happiness."

"I am not gone yet." I said, softly, kissing her neck in turn.

"No, you are not." she repeated, breathily, to herself, as I heard the strain of pain in her voice.

"But soon …" I finished, aware that I was breaking her heart.

We remained silent for a while, it felt like maybe an hour or more. I was watching the clouds, caressing Esme's back, reveling in her gorgeous scent of warm apples and caramel with a dash of cinnamon, forever held in sandal wood, allowing myself to be here with her, comfortable, more than I had ever had been, giving her the love I had denied her and myself all these years.

I was reflecting on the sense of all this, watching the sky and its clouds when a ray of the setting sun decided to bathe us in its light, presenting me with the most beautiful and astonishing view of Esme I had been given to witness in all my years at her side. She was truly amazingly beautiful behind that ingénue façade, and I found myself rather honored that this beauty before me would lay eyes on me as she had. Carlisle was a wise man, and I might have had underestimated him … both of them actually.

"Esme …" I whispered.

"Yes, dear?" She smiled.

"Don't tell Carlisle about me leaving Emmett, please, I need to resolve this with Emmett first."

"I will keep your decision out of my discussions with Carlisle, for the time being. However, Rosalie, please know that Carlisle and I will be there for you, and for Emmett, when the need arises."

"Thank you," I answered her as politely as I could, and then added: "I just need to handle this."

Esme was thoughtful for a moment, then put in: "You might benefit from Carlisle's input, dear. He has been around for more than three hundred years after all." Her voice turned slightly scolding: "And you might want to give him a little bit more credit."

I remained quiet. I didn't feel like discussing my fa … Carlisle with Esme, at present. It was a bit late for that however, and I could feel the moment we had shared was fading away from us slowly.

"We should try and clean up a little, the sun is setting and if you don't get back in one piece in a little while, the boys will start fretting." I told her rather awkwardly.

Esme propped her head up with her hands and looked at me for a long moment. She then pushed herself up to her feet and extended a hand to me. I took it gracefully.

Once I was standing beside her, she said:

"There is a pond and a waterfall a little west of here. We should go and bathe there before heading back."

"Yes, I know the place." I confirmed, "Let's gather our clothes." I answered her, walking to a pile of my clothes, and gathering those that had been thrown here and there. I walked back to her at human pace, still naked, and she took me in, from head to toe, a provocative smile tugging at her lips.

"Have I ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are, my beloved Rosalie?" she whispered in my ear once I had reached her, taking my right hand in her left, intertwining our fingers.

"You have told me many things over the years, Esme," I answered, amused by her flirting, and continued: "but I don't think you ever told me I take your breath away."

"Darling," She retorted, seductive and playful, "if I still had a breath, you would have stolen it."

We walked hand in hand to the pond, and I deposited the small package of our salvaged clothes, most of them anyway, on a rock nearby. We both plunged in the water, and swam, immersing ourselves, and swimming to the far hand of the pond, which was respectable in size and reached the waterfall. I climbed up first on the smooth granite floor the waterfall had carved into the rocky hill, and turned around to offer my hand to Esme, but she was already under the steam of the fall before I could stop myself from extending my arm. The swim had rinsed off our bodies satisfyingly, not that dirt or any other foreign particles could stick to our perfect marble skin anyway.

She looked at me again, indicating a polished and smooth, about knee high, large boulder and said:

"Let me get the blood out of your hair."

I walked to her, compliant, and then turned around to sit on the edge of the boulder, my back to her. I felt Esme's hands slowly caress my hair, rinsing it abundantly, and delicately, as to not detach any hair from my scalp. She knew as well as I did that each hair counted, for we were dead, and our hair did not grow anymore, nor did our nails. I leaned into her, almost unconsciously.

Her touch felt so soft and loving. I let my guard down, and closed my eyes, as she was now caressing my hair more than 'rinsing' it, touching my shoulders, and my neck, massaging, relaxing the tensions of my body. I turned my face slightly to the side, on her right breast, nudging into her a little, resting my weight on my right arm against her, and she slowly turned around me, facing me eventually.

I kept my eyes closed, rubbing my face softly and slowly in the valley of her breasts, wrapping both my arms around her waist, resting my hands on the small of her back, slightly on her bottom. I kissed her skin, lifting my left hand to her right breast, feeling it in my palm, kneading at it, while she positioned herself so that I could put her nipple in my mouth.

I sucked the erect nipple long and hard, enough that she offered me several mouths full of her venom, invading my mouth, once more, of her delicious taste, filling the air of her mesmerizing scent. She moaned when I bit down on her nipple and I felt her right hand entangle itself in my hair, while her left was caressing my shoulder. She moaned:

"Rosalie …"

I let go reluctantly of her nipple, and said, "Yes?"

She tugged at my hair firmly but not enough to pull any, tilting my head back. She looked at me, dominantly, kissing me powerfully, and I opened my mouth to her, diligently, delighted to have once more, the amazing taste of her filling me, forcing me to swallow. I felt my core throb and burn, with a renewed passion and desire, a wave of wetness generously coating the inside of my labia. I moaned louder than I ever wanted to and breathed:

"Esme … I … let me …"

"Stand up," she ordered.

I stood up and felt her arms lock around my waist as she moved us, at vampire speed, past the waterfall stream to the smooth grey granite wall behind it. She pushed me rather harshly against the wall, the impact making a muffled 'thud', and, she kissed me again, biting my bottom lip harder than before, making me open my mouth to let her tongue explore me, dominating our passionate exchange.

My hands were running wild on her back, her sides, her bottom, and I was kissing her back, savoring the flavor, sucking on her tongue a couple times. I wanted very badly to turn us around and get on my knees in order to get more of Esme in my mouth. I enclosed her in my arms, pressing her harder into me and pushed against her to let her understand what I wanted.

She pushed me against the wall, harder, with a louder 'thud.' Esme looked in my eyes fiercely, daring me to defy her. Her eyes were darkened with lust, arousal, and her expression was powerful, her smile heavy with passion and desire. She was going to take me again, I could sense it, and my body, on cue, released more wetness from the depth of me to the edge of my entrance. Esme growled, a low rumbling, possessive growl, one that I had never heard nor even had fathom I would hear in her chest for me. I smelled, then, the delicate scent of her arousal, mixing with mine, heavy in the moist air and it was my eyes' turn to switch to pitch black. The sound coming out of her was irresistible, it was echoing in every part of my body, sending waves of tingles and electrical shocks to my extremities, deep in my core, making my clitoris hard and swollen instantly, just like my nipples, while she had yet to touch me.

She leaned her face to the side of mine, dropping in my ear, with a low purr:

"Do you want me?"

God, I wanted her!

I wanted her enough that I was ready to let her ... I was ready to let her take me, Rosalie Lillian Hale. I was ready to let her fuck me, be on top of me, and this time I couldn't blame it on instinct, or surprise.

"Yes …" I whispered back, closing my eyes, trembling.

"Say it," she demanded.

"No!" I retorted, with the last strings of pride there were in me.

"Say it!" She commanded, as she suddenly turned me around, pressing the front of me to the smooth wall of stone behind the jet of the waterfall, forcing me to arch my back, gripping my arms against it as well.

"Esme …" I said, trying to hide my rising passion.

"Say it …" she whispered in my right ear, taking my lobe between her lips, caressing it with her tongue.

"Huh Esme …" I breathed with lust, fighting to keep control of myself.

She pressed herself into me, grinding her hips into my bottom, I could feel her wetness, as she rocked her hips against mine, creating an amazing friction. She let go of my hands, and I searched despairingly for bumps in the wall I could hold on to. Esme sneaked both her hand to the front of me, taking my breasts in her eager hand, massaging my left breast wantonly, while she opened her right hand wide and pressed it to my abdomen, pressuring mostly on my pubic bone, sending delicious waves of pleasure in my clitoris. I felt my inner walls tighten, begging for presence, letting my abundant moisture pour out of me, flooding my inner thighs.

I moaned: "Esme … what are you …" I could not finish my sentence as I was interrupted by her right fingers finding my clitoris, rubbing on it very slowly. She then let her index finger run along the way to my labia and into my wetness, teasing me generously.

"Hmmmm, Rosalie, you are so aroused, darling, your scent is divine," she said, dipping two fingers in and out of me, letting the palm of her right hand rub against my clitoris. She very delicately scooped some of my wetness on her fingers and making sure I was watching, she brought them to her mouth.

"You taste as wonderfully as you smell. Now, Rosalie dear, say it."

And with that, she pinched my left nipple really hard while she pushed her knee up between my legs.

I growled infuriated by my need of her and the conflict of dominance that she was decided to impose on me.

"I want you …" I mumbled submissively.

"Say it more clearly …" She murmured triumphantly.

"Don't pu … Oh God!" I exclaimed, interrupted by three of her fingers pushed so deep into me from behind that it tore a loud moan out of me and had me make a well defined dent in the granite wall.

She was pushing hard inside of me, and the pressure was spreading throughout my entire body. I could not help but rock my hips on her hand.

"Say it like you mean it," she commanded, curving her fingers inside of me, exploring my inner walls, bathed in my moisture.

"I … Esme … I want you …" I whined, incapable of rebelling against the pleasure she was creating furiously fast inside of me.

She kissed my right shoulder, the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, she sucked at my earlobe again, pressed into me as tight as she could, rocking her entire body with mine, and moving her fingers inside of me at the same rhythm.

"I want you too, Rosalie, so much," she breathed, with heavy pants against my neck.

She was going to cum with me, from rocking our bodies, and fucking me. I could hear her breathing as heavy as mine, while she was going in and out of me, at an excruciatingly slow rhythm, compared to what I wanted her to do. The more she kept at it, the more I wanted her to go faster, but she had me locked in her arms against the wall. She was in control. The thought was so incredibly disturbing, and yet, such a turn on. She possessed me, she had me begging her, and it felt so insanely good.

"Esme … please … don't stop." I purred and panted for her.

She growled, and increased our rhythm a little, fucking me harder and faster.

"Never …" She almost snarled against my ear.

"Oh Esme … I am … hmmmm … I am going to … Oh please …" I moaned and begged.

Her reaction was instantaneous. She thrust in and out of me faster. I felt her body tense and her grip on me tighten. My orgasm was building so strongly, but not as fast as hers was. I whimpered, pushing her closer to her release, and decided to ride her fingers with all the might I could gather in her embrace.

I heard her grunt and growl, "Rosalie …" with a low rumble, "My Rosalie …"

Her body contracted at a furious rate into the back of me, the moisture of her cum all over my behind, insinuating in between my ass cheeks, to my vagina, and when I felt Esme's delectable cum being pumped into me, by her fingers, the thought was simply unbearable.

I came, hard, crashing over the edge with an uncontrollable ferocity, my entire body trembling into hers, riding her fingers, frenzied.

"Huh … hmmm … Yes, yours … Oh Esme …" I said, coming, for her.

She was kissing my temple, caressing me, embracing me, letting me ride my orgasm fully while supporting me. She was whispering loving words in my ear, and reassurances.

A few minutes later, Esme relaxed her hold on me, and she allowed me to turn around, facing her, after delicately taking her fingers out of me. I rested my face in her neck and she rested her cheek to the side of my face.

"I guess we'll have to bathe again," she remarked, humorously.

I nodded, my words had yet to return to me. I was lost in the presence of her, protected by her love and arms, simply content.

The aftermath could wait, tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

**A/N: **

[1] For those of you who wonder what Rosalie smells like … I am reserving my right to remain silent on this question.

[2] I would advice trip hop for this chapter, if you like music when you read. Portishead being the most appropriate band, (try "Roads").

Enjoy!

C.


	4. Chapter 4: Emotional Mud

**Synopsis:** The walk home is maybe the most unexpected part of Esme and Rosalie's encounter in the forest.

**Setting: **Forks, Washington, Olympic National Park, October 18th 2003, night.

**Warning:** The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.

* * *

Esme and I were walking in the forest, on the way back to the Cullen's mansion. We had bathed and put back on what was left of our clothes before heading there, but I was not looking forward to getting back to the house, especially not to Edward and his stupid mind reading.

I had not expected any of what had happened between Esme and me. I had not expected that I could desire her the way I had. It felt like she had cracked the ice around my heart, and penetrated my defenses.

I was angry. I was angry because somehow it felt good. Seventy years of fighting Esme and her insinuating love and care, keeping her at bay so that I would not have to deal with this … this emotional mud that would never last and her good intentions.

And now it felt good. _Good_! On top of everything else I had to deal with, she felt good!

We were going back to the Cullen's, and Carlisle would be concerned for me, Emmett would try to make it better, and Alice, God Alice. She would look at me with her witty eyes full of … I wondered what her eyes would be full of. She would know of course.

We were walking at human pace, she was slightly behind me and I was making sure to keep my pace just a notch faster than hers. She wanted to talk, she wanted to connect, she wanted to touch me. Esme and her motherly, now womanly desire of me, she wanted _me_. How exactly did she want me? What was she expecting to happen? If she thought I was going to be her kitten pet doing her mama's biding, she was sorely mistaken.

"Rosalie …" Esme started, "Wait Darling."

I walked faster, ignoring her request and threw: "What do you want? Didn't you get what you wanted already?"

She sighed, and appeared in front of me, apparently not about to be told off.

"You were beautiful Rosalie. But your … Our love-making is not what I followed you for, although your surrender might be helpful…" She started.

I interrupted her, feeling some sort of acid anger burning the inside of my face: "My… Surrender…" I almost whispered.

She interrupted me this time, probably aware of the pitch black color of my eyes bored to hers, and not from desire but from fury: "Rosalie, listen to me."

Her eyes and tone were pleading, she wanted me to hear her out and I wanted to shout at her _'Why? Why are you doing this to me? Couldn't you just stay away?'_

I sighed and thought to myself that the best I had to do then was let her say what she had to say so that we could go back to me ignoring her, and I would simply avoid her a bit more than usual until she'd get the message and drop it. With a bit of luck Edward would do something stupid or have one of his emotional crises and I would be off the hook for a couple years. Then all I had to do was leaving this damned place after graduation and go off to college. Nothing strange there…

"Rosalie, love, it's okay." She was looking at me tenderly.

I must have looked horrified because she extended her hand to my face, but I flinched away: "Okay?" I asked, "How can any of this be 'okay' as you put it?"

She went on with a reassuring smile: "If you are worried about Carlisle or Edward, don't be, I told you I would handle it."

"And that's supposedly reassuring how?" I asked, sarcastic.

"Sweetheart, I have known you seventy years, have I not always handled the men in this family?" she went on with the same tone of voice.

"Right, if you say so." I answered blankly.

She looked at me intensely, as if she wanted to penetrate my mind somehow, and she took a step closer to me.

"Don't!" I snapped at her and took a step back.

Her delicious scent was insinuating past my resolve, each breath was an excruciating torture of mouth watering want. I didn't lust for her in that moment, I just… God I wanted her arms, her reassurance, her… her love.

I was fighting, I had been fighting for so long, impeccably, never stopping, methodically and in every way possible, I had rejected her, and them. Carlisle wanted a daughter for his wife, a woman for his son, a trophy for his wall. Four is a family, at four '_we_' became a '_coven_'. He was the leader, and my maker, and if I do have a few reasons to hate him for that, I also have to respect it. It always had felt very strange to me, that passive, un-verbalized way that Carlisle and I have to keep a courteous distance yet polite acceptance that he leads and I follow because I choose to.

The truth is that the only reason I stuck to them in the very beginning was the escape route they were giving me after I exerted my well deserved revenge. I needed to get away and I had no better choices than following Carlisle. It tacitly meant accepting his rule. The second major reason I stayed, beside Edward's rejection and offense, was the 'Cullen's lifestyle'. I had become a monster, and I was such a thirsty monster, I was a crazed monster and I needed him. As much as it pains me to say, I needed him.

But Esme? Esme was a weak, pathetic, whipped, enamored naïve woman, or so she seemed to be for the past decades I had known her. I never needed Esme for anything, _she_ had had human blood, and_ I_ never did. _She_ killed _more_ humans than I have, even _children_. Maybe I should remind her of that day in Minneapolis, and why we actually moved to Forks, well Hoquiam, the first time. Maybe I should remind her of her escapades, the ones she had to the public orphanage, when she saw that baby boy that looked just like her own, and she came to the cold of this despicable place at night, holding the little one to her breast, rocking him… Until that night I found her, red eyed, because she had not been able to resist after smothering the infant unconscious. She kept lamenting as I practically carried her back to her husband _'I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to…'_ I was the one to go back and take care of the dead innocent child she had not meant to kill.

Of course she didn't mean to, but truthfully, at the time Esme could barely handle herself, and she might have been good for the men of this family, and Alice too, but Alice was so lost and confused she would have loved anything she could handle not killing, even animals, if they did not run from us half mad each and every time. As for me, I was not the daughter she had hoped for, and I could never accommodate the role.

And now she was so close, her tarte tatin and sandal wood fragrance calling me to her neck, pulling me to her arms, bringing me… home.

I felt her fingers opening through my hair, her fingertips massaging my scalp, softly, as she brought my face to the pit of her shoulder. Her left arm encircled my shoulders, and she shushed me and rocked us just a little, swaying back and forth. I felt her vibrating purr inexorably push me over the edge of my defenses and resistance.

"I hate you …" I whispered to her collar bone, my lips almost suckling at it.

Her embrace tightened, and I felt her lips on my forehead, "It's okay, Rosalie, you can hate me, as long as you don't run from me anymore, we have all the time we need."

I inhaled deeply and my voice said, almost begging: "Please kill me…"

My knees gave way. That is not physically possible for a vampire, we don't 'give way', but maybe I was underestimating the power of my emotions against my will and my motor control apparently, because my knees gave way and I did start sliding to the ground, in Esme's arms, as she let us slide gently, and sat sideways on the mossy earth beneath us.

She pulled me to her even more, so that I was practically in her lap. She replaced me in her embrace, my face to her neck, and I had never been more torn that I was then.

"Esme…" I breathed.

She answered my plea with a firm and concerned tone: "I won't kill you Rosalie. You are my daughter, what I am going to do is love you as you deserve to be loved and from now on _you_ are going to let me."

I sighed in her neck and I focused on making my left hand let go of her shirt while I said: "You will kill me eventually, if you really love me, then you should do it now."

"But sweetheart, I would never hurt you, how can you even think I would want you die?" she asked, truly saddened by my request, and obviously not understanding what I meant. "If you think any of us will have an issue with your sexual identity, honey, really you are mistaken. And whatever is your reason for doubting my love for you, please know that I am here to support you, I will protect you Rosalie."

I couldn't help but snort at that: "_You_ will protect me?"

She tilted my head back so that she could look down in my eyes and say, as serious as she was dead: "Rosalie dear, I am your mother, I will protect you."

And looking deep in my perfectly golden eyes, she understood what the 'issue' was as clearly as I did: I did not believe her. There was not a chance I was going to take her word for it, so her following me here, her fucking me, her holding me to her chest? That's right, it was all for nothing. Nothing but the pain it was causing me.

And what a pain. What a glorious, lively pain she was. A piercing, sharp and deadly dagger to my never mended heart that she was now squeezing in her delicate hands. I was never going to believe her, and even if I did, even if she walked me there, step after step, with her love, her care, her stubborn desire to have me be hers one way or another, she would miss one day. One day she would make a mistake, and it would only hurt so much more. She would misstep, and we would be back to square one. It would happen once, it would happen twice, it would happen more, we were eternal after all, and as it did, I would be defenseless against her, a little more every time, I would die a little more every time, and I would not be able to be as good to her as I had to for her to try to make me believe in her love again.

She would stop. Eventually she would stop. I would have disappointed her one too many time, or she would have lost all faith in me after all the times she thought I knew she loved me but really I did not believe it.

There is only so much one can try. Even when one is a vampire. And Esme, she has other children, and of all vampires, she doesn't have the strongest will either.

I was doomed, I had been all this time and my agony was a slow one. I knew I loved her, if I was honest with myself- and I always am, I knew that I loved all of them and that was why I had stayed. I loved her, and for this one time, maybe it was 'okay' to let myself go in my mother's arms.

Let myself go. Let it go. Forever.

I went back to her neck, and kissed her skin, gently, nudging her a little. She held me as close as she could and kept purring.

"Rosalie, have you tried killing yourself?" She asked calmly, but I could hear her worry.

I inhaled deeply and answered: "In the beginning I tried."

She repeated her question more precisely: "Have you tried to kill yourself recently?"

"We can't destroy ourselves, Esme. Or more specifically, I can't, I tried, a few times, and recently I gave it a lot of thought, but I have not found a way that would not fail miserably or damage myself beyond mending without finishing me off." Maybe that would be a good enough bone for her to chew.

"I see." Was all she could manage without scolding me.

We both knew I could have gone to Voltera. Or get myself into trouble with a nomadic vampire or two. I rejected the first option because I would have endangered the Cullen, even if they had done nothing wrong, it would give the Volturi a reason to meddle into Carlisle's affairs and that was already too big a risk. I could not go to the Volturi because I loved my stupid 'family'. As for stirring trouble with nomads, well that would only work if they were stronger than me, which would be a wild guess if one took in consideration the considerable training I have (I really do get along well with Jasper, and we both have a fascination for ancient Asian arts) and also the fact that our instincts did not really let us commit suicide by vampire, not in a combat configuration with strangers. I would fight, and I might even destroy my enemy, actually I would, I am Rosalie Lillian Hale, I don't lose my fights. Killing other vampires is against the rules, unless you're attacked or provoked or the vampire in question threatens to reveal our secret (that's rule number one) then you can, at your own peril, decide to kill another vampire. Chances are you will never do it again, you and your 'coven' either, because once the hostilities cease, you will cease to exist, from a serious access of Italian plague, if they find out what you did, I mean when they find out what you did.

Back to square one, for love and death.

Lucky me I don't believe in fate, so I can't be doomed. I don't believe in luck either… I wonder what does that make me.

Because I don't believe in God either, Edward and Carlisle can keep their prayers and worries about our souls.

I often think of dying, and Esme apparently knew that all too well.

"I often think of dying." I said, exhausted, figuratively.

"Tell me why you don't do it, Rosalie." She commanded me gently.

Apparently I had not given her a good enough bone to chew.

Really I wanted to answer _'I don't know'_. But I know, and I am Rosalie Lillian Hale, I am always honest with myself, even when I wish I could just lie and believe it.

"I don't believe in an afterlife." I said simply.

She pondered that for a second and then she said: "Are you scared that…"

"I am not scared!" I snapped at her.

"What I meant to say," she chided me, "is that you don't fear God, and what happens to those who commit suicide."

She was referring to Hell, and what most Christians believe: 'Kill yourself, go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not cash in your money, do not get any chance at redemption, get a whiff of what heaven could have been and rot in Hell for eternity.' (If you ask me that is called being a vampire…)

"No, what I meant to say is that I don't believe in an afterlife." I paused for a moment. I was being petulant and deliberately non-cooperative. If I was going to actually let her hold me and worry about me, I guess I could at least tell her something she could comprehend. Maybe even the truth.

"I don't think we go on living somewhere else, or in another form of existence." I went on regretting that I was somehow opening up to her already, "I think that there is nothing beyond our death, if you can call it that, considering we are already dead, but our return to the infinity of matter we come from, in its simplest form, like humans in their coffins become dust, and in turn feed the life of other beings."

"There is no relief in death. No relief of going on, no letting go, no peace of mind. There is only nothingness, and no more mind to appreciate the peace of it."

She was quiet, gently stroking my back, her face resting on top my head.

I couldn't stop then, it was too late, the dam of my feelings had broken, just as she wanted, and I was already contemplating what would happen to me when her arms would let go of me.

"The truth is I don't want to die, I just want it to stop. I don't want to cease to exist. I want my existence to be different." I sighed, "That is why I can't kill myself and I never could even when I tried."

She exhaled and said out loud: "And I thought it was because of your undying love for me… I am disappointed!"

She giggled at her own little pun, and I had to admit, Esme knew how to be silly, and she loved auto derision. I smiled _du bout des lèvres_.

She felt it on her skin and said softly: "There, that is much better."

Esme went on, strong of her little victory, but victory none the less and said: "Well if you can't die, Rosalie dear, and you are stuck here, then how about you make your existence better by letting me, and your family love you and support you? Or I should say, admit to it, because we already love you and support you, although discreetly, and you spend most of your time resisting it."

"And they lived happily ever after in their loving coven, Kumbayah!" I sarcastically threw at her.

"Well I don't know about that, but if I can get a little bit more of this," she held me tighter to her to show me what she meant by this, meaning me, "I know that my existence would be better, and yours too."

"Esme…" I sighed.

And she interrupted me: "And we need to find you a nice vampire girl too, because Darling, you really need it and your sister little _apartés _or mine for that matter, are not going to do the job. Well at least not enough…"

"Esme!" I exclaimed, raising my face from her neck and looking at her smiling face.

I was about to retort something that was lost in the distraction of her lips on mine, kissing me with an amused air. I am not sure how to kiss someone with an amused air, but she did know well enough.

Do I need to tell you how much I hate these kinds of conversations? It's not that she did not mean well, because she did, and she was right. Yes indeed. But when you get down to the needy greedy of things, I am the only one who can change my existence.

I had the possibility to change my existence by making choices, by opening my horizons. That was what Esme was trying to tell me, and she was also trying to tell me she would be my safety net. And I knew she wanted to. But the real question was, could I believe her enough to try, knowing it would hurt anyway.

Rosalie Lillian Hale is not one to shy away from pain. I take my share and stand tall. It is who I am and it is what I do. I don't depend. I hate to depend on anyone. We make our choices alone. We suffer for them alone, and in my case, within myself. I don't need to be a spectacle for the Cullen, I don't need to make a shame of myself more than I have when I was human.

I looked at her eyes, serious again. Kissing her felt good, her hands caressing me felt good, her arms wrapped around me felt so very good, but in the depth of my heart I felt so lonely, so out of reach.

I detached myself from Esme, and got up to my feet.

"The boys will come looking for us if I don't get you back in one piece." I stated, this moment was over, it was time to go.

"Very well." She said, getting to her feet as well and walking before me.

We walked in silence until we could hear the river behind the house. Esme stopped and turned to face me, taking my hands in hers.

"I love you Rosalie. I always have and I always will. You are my daughter, and no one or nothing can change that." She was quite solemn, and her intent was strong. "Don't let this moment get away from you, cherish it, as I will, and know that you have me, for as long as we live."

Guilt tore my insides, just like a fresh gulp of venom. I saw the love in her eyes, the intense desire to have me love her back, to yield to it, and let her in. I remembered the intensity of how she had made me feel, how she had made me cry out her name. I did love her, and maybe there was no shame in taking comfort from her love, once in a while.

"Thank you, Esme." I said faster than I usually would have.

I heard Emmett's feet and Edward's arrogance approaching us. I took my hands out of Esme's and walked in direction of the house. Edward was aiming straight for me.

"What the hell did you do to her Rosalie?" He snarled at me.

I was about to retort, or maybe even crack is skull open but Esme interrupted me:

"Your sister did not do anything to me and I am the one who kept us out so long." She said on a tone that didn't suffer any response. "Why don't you be a gentleman and escort me back inside."

Edwards face was puzzled, and decomposed. I think if he could have turned paler he would have. He had seen Esme's and I encounter in her mind, I was certain of it. He walked toward Esme to offer her his arm, but not without giving me one of his death glares. She took his offered arm gracefully, and then addressed Emmett:

"Thank you too Emmett for coming and get us as well." She smiled, "Your father told you to stay home didn't he?"

Emmett looked at his feet and had the air of someone who didn't know what to do with himself.

"Well Ma, we were kind of worried, and Rosalie was pissed alright so…" I looked at Emmett who smiled at me apologetically.

"We all know that Rosalie has a temper, but you should trust her more, and me for that matter." She scolded, "Next time your father tells you to stay home boys, you should listen to him."

They were talking about me as if I was not even there. I rolled my eyes and started walking toward the house again, passing Edward and Esme, and leaving Emmett right where he was. They could get themselves home without me.

I walked in the house and did not encounter anyone on my way to my room. Once I reached my safe haven, I dropped my torn and dirty clothes, knowing already that I was going to burn them, and went straight for my shower.

I started the stream of water and let it run on my body, immobile. I closed my eyes and thought of Esme again and whispered to myself…

"I love you too, mother."

* * *

**A/N:**

[1] In English _'du bout des lèvres'_ means 'halfheartedly', however, in this passage, I did not use it in that sense, although I did a little, but I meant 'just a tiny bit' which in French you can also say that way when you are referring to a smile. It's really about the tone you are using, and here it's a tad ambiguous.

[2] In English '_apartés'_ which is here in the plural form, means 'aside'. It's a term taken from theater, that literally means an 'encounter to the side' or 'in an aside' I guess. I just thought it was quite more elegant.

[3] I guess you guys don't need an end note to understand that this story is not about smutt. It never was. The smutt was there to express the extremity of Rosalie's isolation within herself and what it takes to reach her. I don't think Esme knew ahead of time what she had to do or how, she just wanted Rosalie so much that her instincts took over and love too. Plus let's remember that Rosalie is the most beautiful woman on earth for a reason, and everything with her is a power struggle, whether she has it or not, she is a walking challenge.

[4] Sometimes I wish I could be more… consistent in my sophistication of speech, especially in dialogue. And I feel I am able of doing that at times but English being my second language, I am still progressing, and this is one of the things I need to progress with and I am constantly working on, so please don't hold it against Rosalie, it's completely my fault. Anyway this chapter is not about sophistication it's about emotions, and obviously Rosalie is shaken. She was in control in chapter 1, then chapter 2 and 3 happened and she is completely discombobulated, well for Rosalie that is. Therefore, there is a slight confusion in how she renders her emotions, which she very much never does, and I found it appropriate to reconnect her with her human emotions, I just didn't tell you because she didn't realize it so much.

[5] Thank you for coming back to this story, and for your patience on my updates. Writing is a process, and life is another. Conciliating both is the work of an acrobat and I often fail as a tightrope walker, although I do try to be graceful.

Merci beaucoup,  
C.


	5. Chapter 5: Wishes

**Synopsis:** Some things never change, yet the ones you love often do unexpected things. Rosalie is at a crossroad.

**Setting: **Forks, Washington, January 25th 2005, night.

**Warning:** The story is rated M for violent, sexual and all together adult content.

* * *

The stupid prick! He had to get in front of that truck. He had to save the girl. Men and their God complex! And she knew… Oh she knew, not a doubt about that. I had seen her eyes, on the scene and at the hospital too. I was the only one to have gone and meet up with Carlisle after he examined her. The girl, she had hit her head because of Edward's _heroic_ behavior, was in no mortal danger, unfortunately, and of course, Carlisle had no intention on raining in Edward and his obsession for his Singer.

"She seems to be important to him, Rosalie, and he has not been this expressive in… I actually don't think I have ever seen your brother this expressive before." Carlisle argued with me.

"Oh you mean even when he was killing humans by the dozen, he was not that expressive?" I retorted sarcastically, "What if he loses it and kills her in public?"

"Edward has enough control over his urges. I believe that if he was going to kill her, he would have done so already." Carlisle continued.

I snorted: "You are such a hypocrite, _father_." Carlisle took the slap gracefully, but I saw the pain in his eyes. "We both know he has not even decided himself yet, if he is going to kill her or not. I may be blond, but I am not an imbecile, and I would be grateful if once in a while you chose not to insult my intelligence with your courteous condescendence."

"Rosalie, I assure you…" Carlisle started, looking into my eyes.

"Oh save it Carlisle, you are giving him the latitude he wants because he is your son and your first born. You are so partial to him, it's offending." I spat at him and turned to leave.

Carlisle sighed, and took my hand to stop me in my tracks.

"Your mother is terrified that he will leave again, and we both think that Edward is not just curious about the human." Carlisle told me truthfully this time.

I turned around swiftly, but he held on to my hand.

"She knows about us, Carlisle, she has to be turned or killed." I said calmly this time, "Edward will never want her turned, and she knows our secret. It's only a matter of time."

Carlisle looked at me with his soft eyes, "We do have time before things become dangerous to our family, and so far she has been keeping our secret."

I had to give it to the human girl, she had kept her mouth shut, and she had done so since the very beginning, demonstrating incredible discretion and a different sort of behavior toward us than her fellow human friends.

"You will put the entire family at risk for Edward's sake." I stated.

He smiled at me lovingly, "I would for any of you, if it meant your happiness."

"Without our consent?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He kept on smiling and said: "Of course this calls for a family meeting, but we are not going to kill an innocent girl to protect ourselves, Rosalie."

"If we are not going to kill her and we are not going to turn her, then how do you intend to explain this to the Volturi when they show up?" I asked, irritated, "I am not particularly thrilled at the idea of killing innocents Carlisle, but I will do what it takes to protect this family."

"As will I." He said softly.

"Really?" I asked rhetorically, "I guess we'll see about that when you get to the house."

And with that, I walked away from him.

"I will see you at home Kitty…" he whispered for my ears only.

Once we had all sat at the table and Edward had put on his show, it was clear enough that he was infatuated with the human girl. That would have been perfectly fine if he had paid any consideration to the risk he was imposing on us, but as usual the only thing Edward was concerned with was Edward.

He was determined to keep the girl human _and_ alive. The fact that she was his Singer should have been enough to make it mission impossible for Edward, but I have to hand it to the boy, he knows a thing or two about control. I had not gotten close enough to the girl to be particularly startled by her scent, but she smelt delicious anyway. Every human smells delicious to a vampire. Compare that to our 'vegetarian diet', and any human is as mouth watering to us than your favorite meal. Make that human a Singer and it's Christmas all year long.

To have Edward handle himself around the girl did command consideration. I could tell Emmett just wanted to see it play out, and he would welcome a fight with the Volturi, because he did not care who, as long as he got to fight something. One look at Jasper and I could see he had come to the same logical conclusion I had, the girl was a threat. For Jasper, it was not personal, and he did not seek any support in his assessment or the realization of his strategic reaction to the threat we had all perceived.

As expected, Esme was crazed with worry to see her son leave the house. Edward had gone to Denali for a week when he had first realized that the human was his Singer. Esme was inconsolable, reminded with dread of the long years Edward had deserted the family, and her. Anything that could keep Edward home would be welcomed. If Edward wanted to have the girl, she would personally pick her up for him.

What was unexpected was Alice's announcement. I was not surprised by her supporting Edward. Alice is close to every one of us in her own way, and Edward is very fond of Alice. However, her vision of her very close friendship with the girl, _Bella_, that was a setback. Alice was bored. She would never admit to that, but Alice was bored. She needed attention, challenge, and freshness, something new and entertaining. And that something being a human girl who could become Edward's lover? _That_ was appealing to Alice.

But more than that, Alice was actually defending the girl. She was going to _love_ her. And with that, Jasper swayed. None of us ever bet against Alice. Her visions are not set in stones, they are subjective, but in this instance, her word meant more to any of the Cullen than a potential threat.

Edward was smirking, completely smug with himself, the self righteous prick, and he was looking at me sideways, with a self-importance that was close to insulting. His selfishness was incredible.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Edward being happy. It's a strange concept, but if he can have happiness, good for him. However, I just can't stand his self-righteousness. If Edward wanted the girl, then why not, she was his Singer after all, and he could not hear her thoughts (which I admit must be refreshing, as much as it is disturbing). I could care less who Edward shagged and called his mate. I would even have the generosity to let him court the girl a little so he'd be able to find out if she was the right one, even as a human, why not? But as long as she was oblivious to our nature, and that he understood she had to become one of _us_ in the case she found out, willingly or not. She was his Singer, there was no doubt in my mind she was 'made' for him somehow, everything in her appealed to him, that's what a Singer is: the perfect attraction.

Bella was not oblivious to our nature anymore. We had broken the rules. The rules we had always abide by, and that had forced us to keep low profiles, change lives and locations, hell, even repeat high school over and over again. We abide by the rules to stay alive, and keep the Volturi out of our business. But none the less, I am not a heartless bitch, if she is the one for Edward, then he should find out. He should even find out now, and then all he would have to do is come to terms with his duties: change her or kill her.

Edward, being responsible? You'd think he would have the manners and maybe even the courtesy to actually ask us for our indulgence, and maybe even our support in his endeavors. Lord knows even if I did not feel like doing so, the entire coven would be overjoyed with the news of Edward's attempt at his first love. I can see Esme's face with my eyes wide open, she would be ecstatic. Nothing too dangerous at checking the waters before turning a human, especially with the logistic a newborn requires. The Volturi could not reproach that to us, but he had to have the heartfelt intention to protect our secret from her without a trace of doubt, or Aro would know, and we would die, and Edward had absolutely no intention of killing or changing the girl.

But no… Edward is owed the graces he receives in life, asking is below him, he only expects or he simply does not care. Just as he was raised, a spoiled rotten brat who had privileges and influence he did not deserve.

Alice could have seen the girl changed into a vampire all she wanted, Edward would not allow it. But even with that certitude, it did not matter what end awaited us, as long as Edward got what he wanted, Esme and Carlisle would not bother with consequences for all that mattered to them was that Edward would be satisfied and stay in Forks.

I stood from the table, even as they were still discussing the situation. I knew the conversation was over. Edward had won, once again, and I guess it was time for me to change sceneries. I wondered for a moment if Esme or Carlisle would even noticed I was gone from the house. I went upstairs and changed, for more comfortable clothes, so I could go outside. No one questioned my leaving the dining room, Emmett started the motion to follow me but I shook my head at him. I wanted to be alone.

I walked down the stairs from my room, and went to the back of the house on the first floor, where Esme had her studio, with her drawing table and crafting shelves. Her door was always opened, she had large bay windows, her entire room was enclosed by windows, except for the inside wall in the house. She had a beautiful view of the forest, and the river behind the mansion. There were some specs and plans on her industrial drawing table, she always had something going on.

Esme's desk had a computer, and was crowded with papers, magazines, a real mess. She had flowers and candles, but her scent was very strong in the room. It was gentle and comforting, as usual. I had taken the habit to come sit with her, sometimes, over the past couple of years. We had been closer. Having conversations at times, but more often I sat and read, or did puzzles while she drew. She liked my company she said, it was comfortable and she enjoyed my focused, quiet attitude so she could actually do things, and be herself, not just be a consoling pair of arms and ears. I figured maybe the others were seeking her council in their affairs, but I was not. I was just barely getting used to actually allowing myself her presence, that was much enough for me.

Sometimes she would sit with me and work on the puzzles. Sometimes she would sit by me in her large sofa and hold my hand, or caress my hair as she asked me to read out loud to her. She would first snuggle so close into me and then she would patiently love on me until I would melt into her embrace. I think Esme listened less to my reading than she enjoyed our physical proximity. She was patient with me, and she did not push it too often. She would talk to me as well, telling me about her projects, her hopes for us, and she had started telling me about Carlisle here and there. I knew she was trying to bring me closer to my father for all instance and purposes, and though it was pretty obvious, I could not bring myself to hold it against her. Esme was trying to establish a quality relationship between us, and I kind of liked it, beside my better judgment.

On her desk was the white rose I had picked for her that morning when dawn had just barely opened it. It had been touched, but not taken care of. The rose was dying, its petals had withered from lack of water, and as I took it to the sink and placed it under water, I knew it was not going to change much of anything. Esme had seen the rose, she had touched it, and not only had she left it there to die, but she had had to have heard me in her studio by now. Esme had always paid more attention to Edward, but she had worked very hard to prove to me I meant just as much to her as he did.

My feelings were hurt though, I did not have these attentions for her every day, and taking care of the rose would not have taken more than a minute. It was Esme's favorite, and she knew it was from me. I felt jealousy creep through my heart, and resent for Edward, but mostly, I felt the cruel bite of rejection from Esme. The worst part was she had not meant to, she simply had been distracted by more important matters, so she had negligibly brushed me aside, like she had simply forgotten the rose the second she had put it down on her desk. She had discarded me for Edward and his human girl without a moment of hesitation. Not that I would have expected to be the most important part of her day, after all Edward was a concern for all of us these days, but one minute was not too much to ask for, it was the least I could expect from a woman who had _made_ me allow her into my heart and called herself my mother.

I threw the rose in a nearby trash can and walked to the bay window of Esme's studio. I dropped on the soft ground lightly and walked away from the mansion. I did not feel like hunting, I just could not shake off the biting of Esme's rejection. I knew she most likely had not meant to, but my bruised feelings did not allow me to feel very forgiving at that time.

Edward and his self-centered righteousness was once again the source of my torment, and as I was wondering how I could find something else to redeem his distasteful attitude, I actually caught up his scent floating toward Forks. I followed it and ended it up right outside Chief Swan's house.

"The little bastard!" I spat under my breath.

I went around the house, remaining in the woods, and saw the statuesque figure of my brother in the girl's bedroom. I could not exactly see what was happening, but there was a well garnished tree bending toward her window, that would be a perfect observatory. I climbed in the tree easily and focused on making myself unnoticeable.

Edward was simply watching the girl, who was sleeping somewhat peacefully. He looked in pain. He looked like he was in hell, yet he was in awe as well. He was hovering over her, but completely immobile, as if frozen. Emotions were flashing in his eyes and I could feel his conflict. He was conflicted between the powerful desire to possess the girl and protecting her. There was tenderness in his eyes, and though I was not Jasper, I could tell he was done for, she had his heart.

"Would you mind some company?" Jasper whispered from the ground.

I looked down at him and then back at the window. Jasper got up on a branch next to me. He knew that I had not say no, which meant he was taking a moderate risk getting up there in the tree with me.

I asked evenly: "Did you come to kill the girl?"

"I am thinking about it." He answered calmly, "Alice seems confident though."

I smiled, "isn't she always?"

Jasper chuckled lightly: "Yes she is, but usually rightfully so. I guess I am more curious as to how he is going to handle this."

"Badly," I answered simply, "This is Edward after all, and he is completely smitten with the girl. I am pretty certain it's his first time, so I am expecting nothing less from him than a disaster."

"So much love, sister, you always are the optimist." Jasper said, with a crooked smile.

I answered dryly: "Only realistic. He is not going to change her if he can avoid it, and she knows our secret."

"Alice said she will be one of us, and that should be enough for me." He said more seriously.

"Then what are you doing here, brother?" I asked bluntly.

He studied me for a moment, before saying "I could ask you the same question, since you did not come here to kill her."

I had not really thought of why I had followed my brother's scent all the way to the house. I would not try and take the girl out with Edward in the house, neither would Jasper, so really, we had no business sitting in this tree, watching through the girl's window at a deep in thought Edward, coveting over his treasured human.

Maybe I had followed his scent out of anger, and out of spite, after all Edward was so full of himself, it was a miracle his arrogance had not gotten him killed yet. I felt my anger flare inside of me once more, but I was more hurt than angry, and somehow, I knew it was not by him. Edward was simply being Edward, and the girl, though a nuisance had nothing to do with my dislike of Edward's personality. He could be quite attractive, charming and gentle, and had it not been completely odd and out of the ordinary for a human to not fear a vampire instinctively, I would have been able to understand the attraction she felt for the handsome young man that was musing above his sleeping beauty.

"Jealousy is unbecoming to your beauty, Rosalie dear." Jasper whispered.

I gave him a death glare and hissed: "Prying was never a suiting trait for you Jasper, we have enough of one Edward."

His eyes locked onto mine, but his were tender. He breathed in, and I felt the wave of warmth caressing me mildly. It was just a little help to relax, and avoid aggravating me.

"Stop it Jasper, you know I can't stand it when you temper with my emotions." I let out, trying to deny his calming influence.

Jasper smiled sadly, and lowered the strength of his power to a barely noticeable level. "If I was trying to manipulate you, you would not feel it until it would be too late, sister, I was only trying to take care of you."

"I don't need to be taken care of!" I said, annoyed, letting myself softly fall from the tree to the ground, as light as a feather. I started walking toward the forest, away from the Swan's house.

"Sure," Jasper went on, walking after me, "that's why you leave roses to Esme and you read her Dumas for hours, letting her love on you as she has been hoping for decades."

I stopped dead in my tracks, turning around sharply. "Are you starting a fight, Jasper? Because if it is blood you are looking for, I might just give it to you."

He held both his hands up in peace and went on: "She cares for you more than she cares for her own life." He was looking at me intently, and I knew he was telling me what his empathy allowed him to know for certain.

"Esme's felt struck by lightning when she realized you were in her studio." He inclined his head just a little, "I believe that's when she understood what she did, or did not do, because she was in the middle of a sentence and she lost her train of thoughts."

"Vampires don't lose their train of thoughts" I retorted coldly.

He chuckled, "Vampires who love you do. I know that for a fact."

"There is no need to flatter me, brother, I am not that vain." I said to him, not moved for a second.

Jasper stepped closer to me and carried on, "I know at least a couple who are defenseless in front of you, but what has me baffled," he smiled fondly then, "is how she actually succeeded to disarm you."

"I am not disarmed, and there is nothing to disarm." I shrugged and turned around to resume the pace.

"You're afraid this human girl will take your place in Esme's heart now that you allowed yourself to yield to her love." He called after me, "That is why you are jealous."

I kept on walking. Any sort of reaction would give him an opportunity to think he was right. I was getting weary of his non-sense.

Jasper sped past me and stopped me this time.

"You are pushing it, Jasper." I warned him.

He hung his head a little, "She did not mean to, Rosalie, she loves you, and I know things have been… unsettling for you these past years, but please, don't go."

"You don't know anything, and I will go where I see fit." I spat at him, "As for Esme's love, she is free to give it to whom she fancies, and I have no intention of begging for it."

"I would think you'd be happy to see me take my leave for a while." I hinted to him, stepping around his immobile features.

He sighed, "No, I would not."

Jasper came to walk by me, and we slowly made our way to the mansion.

"Alice would miss you terribly." He whispered as I stopped to look in his direction.

I breathed in the mist of the night, and the delicate fragrance of pine and fresh humid air, looking to the wild beauty of our surroundings, bringing me back gently to Jasper's untamed blond main and his angelic face, the alluring and deep essence of his subtle salty, creamy caramel and dark cherry fragrance, the hand of a predator in a velvet glove.

I smiled at him, a soft smile, "She is going to love the girl, Jasper, they will be friend, and one day, she will become a vampire, a Cullen. Don't worry, Alice will be perfectly fine."

Jasper took my right hand in both his, and we both knew I had to fight the urge of snatching it away from him. "No, Rosalie, she won't be, and neither will I. None of us will be. This family needs you, and they love you." He looked away for a small moment.

"It's hard for me to believe, but we are loved, each and every one of us. And you, Rosalie Hale, you are essential to me, to us."

This emotional display was not common for Jasper, quite the contrary, and I wished I could have said the words he wanted to hear, I wished I could have find in me the strength to accept the comfort he was offering me and feel it, as he was hoping for. I wished I could let his kindness help me love myself more.

I wished.

* * *

**A/N:**

[1] And that is the end of that. I mean of this opus. You all realized by now that this story was simply a deeper insight into Rosalie's heart, and maybe a way to witness her progression, as she evolves toward who she will become within 'Je te rends ton Amour'.

I definitely have a grander scheme for Rosalie, and all my stories (yes I have more, eventually) are miles stones in her life experience. She will tell you the contrary, but vampires are like humans, they learn, they evolve, they change, it's just a bit slower and if looking at their personalities over centuries, I am sure the trait of their soul and nature would become more refined, and deeper asserted.

I think what I like the most about vampires is that they actually have the time to realize their potential and enduring through time give them leisure that we human do not possess. When I think about them, I see mountains which only move a few centimeters per year, but on the course of millennium, we call that tectonics or the movement of continents and formation of earth.

[2] It was gratifying for me to read this passage in 'Midnight Sun', however as for everything SM is concerned with, it was still frustrating and not enough explored in my opinion. I wanted to add my take on this particular moment because I think that it was indeed a crossroad for every single Cullen. It fit particularly well in my story of Esme's love penetrating Rosalie to the core, at last, and we all know how much Esme, as Alice, are thrilled to have Bella introduced in their lives. I could never help but think that if Rosalie was so distant and distasteful of Bella, it also had to do with the fact that the girl was to throw everything Rosalie feels she 'has' down the drain.

Jealousy, the fear of being rejected and abandoned, but also the cruel interpretation of life's irony, introducing Bella to her life when she just allowed love in her heart.

Thank you for your support and patience, I am now closing this chapter and moving on to the next one of 'Je te rends ton Amour'.

C.


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